Karen had originally assumed he would become the target.
He had braced himself; the instant anyone lunged at him, he would drop Richard and sink his teeth into them in a brutal fight to the death!
Consequently, when the others averted their gazes, Karen was mildly surprised.
Yet understanding quickly followed. Under these bizarre circumstances, Richard—a seeming deadweight—had instead become a testament to Karen's terrifying strength.
The man who had rammed Leon straight out of the trial might not have recognized Leon or known his background, or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care. But his primary reason for targeting Leon was that Leon had already reached his limit, hanging on by a mere thread. One shove was all it took to knock him out of the running.
Yet he dared not lay a finger on Karen. He didn't believe the others would join forces with him to bring Karen down, because there were five passing spots, not one. Anyone who made the first move would inevitably face Karen's devastating retaliation.
No one was naive enough to think that Karen, cornered like that, would foolishly cling to his burden. Any normal person in that situation would ditch the baggage and beat the attacker to death!
In a free-for-all competition, no one willingly picks a fight with the strongest. What made optimal sense in cold logic rarely held up in human instinct.
The man lay sprawled on the ground, seemingly catching his breath.
Hauling Richard, Karen pressed forward, stepping right past the man. The man didn't twitch.
The others also advanced, though everyone instinctively opened up some distance from one another.
That brief moment had been their best chance at cooperation. With that opportunity gone, banding together against anyone else was practically impossible.
Karen pulled ahead of everyone, taking the lead as he steadily forged higher.
He looked down at Richard. Ice already covered eighty percent of the boy's skin; at this point, Richard resembled little more than a lump of ice. Yet his consciousness lingered, gritting his teeth and hanging on.
Reaching this height—even without walking the entire way himself—demonstrated commendable resilience.
It showed that Richard was exceptionally talented, but his indolent nature had let that talent go to waste.
Then again, that was only natural. His family background had granted him an elevated starting point, but it had simultaneously robbed him of the gritty resolve forged by clawing one's way up from rock bottom.
As the altitude crept higher, the soul-freezing chill intensified to a new extreme.
At this point, Richard's consciousness showed signs of imminent collapse. Going any further meant he would likely be forcibly ejected from the trial.
Karen simply halted, turned around to face down the mountain, and sat down.
Richard leaned against Karen's arm, wheezing in faint, broken gasps:
"Kar... Karen... I'm really... really... such... a piece of trash..."
"Yeah, you are."
"You're help... helping me... this much... but I still... still can't... hold up..."
"Alright, stop stating the obvious."
"It... it hurts... my pride... to be... to be dragged up... like this... I feel... so miserable..."
"Don't be dramatic."
"As... friends... as... brothers... I... don't want... to be... a burden..."
"Shut up and hold on as long as you can."
Just then, the first figure appeared from below. It was the man from the knight order.
He came to a halt.
He stared at Karen sitting above him, and at Richard slumped against Karen's side.
He understood that Karen had stopped because his companion could no longer endure the ascent.
Yet with Karen sitting right there, he didn't dare climb past.
According to the rules, securing a top-five spot meant not only being in the top five while you were active, but also ensuring that after you exited the trial, those remaining wouldn't surpass your recorded altitude.
He had watched Karen drag that boy all the way up here with sheer brute force. Karen would definitely want to guarantee that person a spot in the top five. With so few contenders left, the cleanest way to guarantee it was to eliminate a few right here.
To make matters worse, the path narrowed considerably higher up. Bypassing Karen safely at this narrow stretch was virtually impossible. Besides, every single step drained what little strength he had left; he had no stamina to waste on sidestepping.
Seeing the newcomer freeze in his tracks, Karen offered a slight smile. He had no idea whether his frozen face could convey a smile, but he raised his right arm and waved toward the slope behind him, signaling the young man to go ahead.
The youth blinked in surprise. He hesitated, knowing that nobody could guarantee Karen wouldn't strike him from behind.
Yet glancing back down the path, then at Karen, and finally up at the snowy peak behind him, he ultimately took a step forward.
Upon drawing alongside Karen, the young man paused and spoke:
"I... my name is... Bart... Bart Cousins... Third... Knight Order... candidate... Eagle... Knight..."
By formally introducing himself, he was showing Karen his utmost respect.
"Karen Silva, external member of the Whip of Order's Neo Hound Squad."
"Wh—"
Bart was stunned. It wasn't because Karen was merely an external squad member—Bart's own parents were high-ranking officers in the knight order, yet he himself was only a candidate knight, effectively on reserve duty just like Karen. Families with deep heritage and pedigree placed immense value on their scions cutting their teeth at the grassroots level; only parvenus scrambled to climb as high as possible in the shortest time.
What shocked him was that Karen could speak so fluently!
What did that signify?
It meant Karen still possessed ample strength in reserve—an immense amount, in fact.
"Kar... Karen... I'm... buying you... a... drink..."
"I don't drink alcohol. Let's have tea instead; liquor is bad for your health."
"Al... alright... tea... it is..."
Karen glanced at Bart. "Keep climbing. Save your breath."
"Th... thanks..."
Bart resumed his climb, pressing upward with grueling effort. He would push forward until his strength gave out entirely, until his consciousness faded and the array automatically ejected him from the trial.
Partly, that was the nature of the test. But more importantly, he knew in his heart that although he was currently in the lead, he wasn't truly first—he was second. He was certain Karen would eventually climb past.
Shortly after Bart went ahead, a second figure appeared: the boy who played with pebbles.
His soul now appeared half ice and half stone, making him resemble a stony golem.
However, Karen could tell that the stone on the youth wasn't ordinary rock, but rather a crystal that looked like stone, and that state had thoroughly permeated his soul.
The boy stopped, clearly facing the exact same dilemma Bart had.
He knew Bart was ahead of him, but had no way of knowing whether Bart had moved on or been finished off by Karen.
"Out of curiosity, have you been corrupted before?" Karen asked.
"Y... yes... cor... corruption..."
"That must have been hard."
The boy had indeed suffered corruption. He was a follower of Order, yet he also qualified as an aberrant demon.
Furthermore, the corruption had sunk into his very soul, putting him in a situation similar to Dora and Doreen. He had endured far greater agony than them, yet he had gritted his teeth and walked the path of faith.
"C-can... can I... go... up?" the boy asked Karen.
"Go on ahead. Don't worry, I won't ambush you."
"O-oh... al... right..."
The boy took a step and resumed his ascent, step by laborious step. When he drew abreast of Karen, he murmured:
"My... name is... Ven... Ventura... Your... your... soul... is very strong..."
The boy gave no surname. That likely meant he had no prominent house behind him. It didn't mean he was an orphan, only that stating his family name would mean nothing to anyone, so he didn't bother.
This served as a reminder to Karen: he was used to offering his fabricated surname when exchanging pleasantries, but there was really no need for it.
"I'm Karen."
Ventura lifted his legs—one half ice, one half stone—and continued his climb.
A short while later, the man who had eliminated Leon arrived. He stopped as well, but asked nothing. Mimicking Karen, he turned around, faced downhill, and sat down.
Before long, Aisli trudged up the path. She spotted the seated man, and just above him, Karen and Richard.
Keeping her eyes fixed on the man, she continued forward.
The moment she drew alongside him, the man sprang up and lunged straight at her.
Aisli was prepared, and the two immediately tangled in a brawl.
With both of their soul states depleted to the brink, their struggle lacked any accompanying spells or dazzling light; it was far from graceful.
Instead, they resembled two dying feral dogs engaged in a final, savage mauling.
Sitting above, Karen observed the spectacle impassively. The man hadn't asked if he could pass like Bart and Ventura had, because he had assumed Karen was guarding the passage.
So he had stationed himself right below Karen to guard his own pass.
Evidently, the man's soul was slightly more resilient than Aisli's. At such a critical juncture, that sliver of an edge was enough to decide the outcome.
Aisli was pinned to the ground, her soul dissipating rapidly. Still, she refused to yield, putting up a desperate last stand, though her struggles grew steadily weaker.
Yet right at that moment, a crimson hue flared within Aisli's soul. A bright scarlet bird burst from her body and crashed directly into the man, instantly igniting his soul.
Wide-eyed with disbelief, the man faded away, expelled from the trial.
Earlier, during security screening, an examinee had been disqualified on the grounds of cheating when the phantom image of a tortoise was provoked from his body.
Yet Aisli possessed a similar secret. Belonging to that specialized department, her bond with monster beasts was far deeper, and her methods of concealment far more refined.
Just as the exam briefing had stated: getting caught was cheating; evading detection was skill.
Aisli hauled herself out of the snow with great effort and looked up at Karen.
With so little of her facial features remaining intact, Karen could only guess that she was smiling.
"Th-this... is my... very... last... tri... trick..."
Karen said nothing.
Aisli glanced at the spot where the man had previously sat, then at the path behind Karen.
Ultimately, she chose to keep moving up. In her view, staying here and getting knocked out by Karen yielded the exact same altitude coordinate anyway, so she might as well get it over with.
Yet when she painfully dragged herself past Karen and reached the slope above him, she paused, turning back toward Karen's silhouette in utter astonishment.
"D-do... you... have a... thing... for... me...?"
"Heh... heh... ha... cough..." Beside them, Richard, breathing more out than in, was thoroughly amused.
His laughter sounded like that of a crumbling, decaying skeleton on the verge of turning to dust.
"Don't worry, and don't flatter yourself. I don't have a thing for you."
"Wh... why...?"
"Because you're not pretty enough."
"I... hate... you..."
With that, Aisli turned and continued climbing.
Three people had passed. Counting Karen and Richard, all five spots were filled.
Yet the trial had not concluded, meaning someone below was still advancing.
Finally, another figure came into view. She was lying flat on her back, paddling across the snow using her hands and feet like a rowboat. It was the sleepy girl.
The sleepy girl's body had practically frozen solid; at this elevation, she had reached her limit as well.
She paused,
sighed,
and let her hands rest limp at her sides.
After a long while,
she appeared to muster a fraction of strength and resumed crawling upward.
Karen slowly rose to his feet.
He could continue climbing, but Richard could not. Thus, to secure Richard's qualification, Karen had to serve as the gatekeeper.
The girl paddled up before Karen. She opened her eyes, looked at him, and murmured,
"The dream... is over..."
The moment the words left her lips, the frost encasing her body began to dissolve. Incredibly, her soul restored itself to the pristine state it had been in when she first entered the exam grounds!
The girl pushed herself upright and pointed a finger at Karen.
"Are you going to stop me?"
Karen stepped directly into her path, his stance making his answer clear.
She was likely the final contender, yet undeniably the most formidable and enigmatic. It was entirely possible that, like him, she had employed a specialized method to evade the trial's genuine strain.
For Karen, it was because he had experienced this exact environment before. As for her, she had chosen to sleep, using sleepwalking to conjure an alternate self that absorbed all the attrition from the mountain base to this point.
In essence, her method was quite similar to that fellow inpatient of the captain's who played rock-paper-scissors with himself.
Except that lunatic had clearly overplayed his hand and was nowhere to be seen—likely having broken into an internal brawl with himself halfway up the mountain over an unfair division of labor.
"Kar... Karen..." Richard's feeble voice drifted over. "As... as long as... five... people... are ahead... of me... I... won't count... count as... cheating..."
"You're still hung up on that right now?"
"Being carried... up here... seeing the... scenery... I'm... satisfied... totally satisfied..."
Richard closed his eyes, his form dissipating.
He had voluntarily withdrawn from the selection.
Perhaps in a different trial format, he could have stood by Karen's side, facing challenges together and offering some measure of help. Had he contributed even a little, he could have accepted the result with a clear conscience.
Yet under this specific format, he had become complete deadweight, hauled up the mountain entirely by Karen.
That just felt pathetic.
Even if anything went once past the security checkpoint—and Karen's brute-force towing didn't technically violate the rules and would still secure the spot—a qualification earned this way felt like a burdensome disgrace to Richard.
Throughout the process, Richard had clearly seen the chasm separating him from the truly exceptional.
Above all, he didn't want Karen to fight this sleepy girl just for his sake.
The moment Richard vanished,
Bishop Bern's voice rang out:
"The selection has concluded."
"Roar!"
With a low growl from the phantom beast Compasini, Karen opened his eyes.
Only two people remained on the exam grounds, as they were the only ones still inside the illusion when it ended. Everyone else, including Bart and the other two ahead of them, had succumbed after climbing a short distance further, their bodies teleported outside the venue in flashes of light.
Karen looked at the sleepy girl. She was looking back at him, a trace of regret in her eyes—regret that she hadn't gotten to have a real clash with him.
Bishop Bern was reading out the rankings.
First place: Bart. Second place: Ventura. Third place: Aisli. Fourth place: Karen. Fifth place: Philomena.
The rankings were not entirely accurate, since two participants had remained in the illusion until the very end and could theoretically have climbed higher. But to Bishop Bern, all that mattered was selecting five candidates; the internal order among the five held little meaning.
"Karen, see you at the next round."
Philomena offered Karen a brief smile, retrieved a sleep mask from her pocket, and slipped it over her eyes. Leaning forward again as though falling right back to sleep, she staggered away.
"Karen, let's head back, hehe," Richard said, walking over.
"Alright."
As Karen and Richard made their way out, they saw Bart waiting ahead.
"Hey, tea time!"
Bart stepped forward and lightly thumped Karen's chest.
"Sounds good."
"Um, I'd like to join too," Ventura chimed in, the pebble-tossing youth looking somewhat shy.
"Don't leave me out; we'll still be attending the next round together anyway," Aisli said, walking over as well.
Both Bart and Aisli had groups of people waiting for them nearby. Seeing this, Bart remarked, "Then let's not bring other friends along."
Aisli nodded. "Fine by me."
The group stepped onto the teleportation circle. Enveloped in a flash of white light, they all returned to the basement of the Church Affairs Building.
Stepping outside, they found a crowd of friends and parents waiting to receive the candidates.
Among them stood a familiar figure: Mr. Memphis.
Seeing him, Richard immediately said, "I'll go with Mr. Memphis to report our results to the captain. Karen, you guys go ahead to the gathering."
Richard remembered Bart's earlier comment about not bringing other friends.
He knew Karen would definitely bring him along, but he refused to impose.
Karen almost called out to stop Richard—he wouldn't snub his cousin for the sake of some new social circle—but seeing Mr. Memphis standing there, he kept silent.
Richard walked up to Memphis. "The captain and the others headed back first," Memphis said. "They left me here to wait for your news."
"Then let me give you the good news: Karen made the cut, haha!"
Mr. Memphis nodded. The outcome came as no surprise to him; both he and his father had predicted that Richard would need sheer blind luck to slip onto that list.
Naturally, they had no idea what had actually transpired inside the illusion. Very few did—only Bishop Bern, who presided over the realm, and the final qualifiers understood the truth.
Richard sighed. "I realized there's a huge gap between me and those people. Even though we're all about the same age... Sigh, I really squandered too much time in the past living far too comfortably. I can't keep going on like that."
"Every selection trial is merely a brief episode in the journey of life. Its purpose is only to help you see the path ahead more clearly. Even without securing a spot, you've gained something valuable, and that's worth celebrating."
"Yeah, you're absolutely right. Memphis, bless you—an introvert like you actually comforting me." Richard opened his arms and gave Memphis a hug. "Alright, though my dad probably won't comfort me like this. I bet as soon as I get home, I'm in for another beating. Sigh."
"He won't."
"He definitely will."
"A father might find any excuse to beat his son, but never when his son is feeling down."
"Sigh, you don't get it. My dad's out of his mind."
Memphis: "..."
"Aren't you going to say something to Karen?"
"He doesn't lack people congratulating him right now, but you need company."
"True." Richard nodded, throwing an arm over Memphis's shoulder. "Memphis, you're a true friend. Come on, no matter what, I'm treating you to some pastries today!"
"You should head home first."
"Not yet. I've been cooped up these past few days and bored out of my skull. I need to go unwind properly."
"I have business today and can't go. Something very important."
"Is that so? What a shame. Then I'll just go by myself."
"Alright..."
"Tell you what: once you're done with your business, you can head over to Red Leaf Street. That whole street is lined with pastry shops. Just pick any shop that catches your eye. When you're done, just give them my name and put it on my tab. They all call me young master, hehe."
"Understood..."
"Oh, and remember, I don't go by Richard on that street. You know how it is—hanging out there, how could I use my real name? Using your real name is always inconvenient."
"What name do you use, then?"
"Young Master Aisen."
Chapter 309